


Escapism

by Taliya



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Angst, Developing Friendships, Escapism, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Poirot Café Writing Contest, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28957905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliya/pseuds/Taliya
Summary: Desperate to get away from the events overrunning his life, a disheartened Kuroba Kaito bought a ticket on the Shinkansen to somewhere—he had let the train station staff choose his destination.  So here he was, nearly 15,000 yen poorer, standing in a city he had visited several times solely for Kaitou KID’s heists.  Written for Poirot Café’s 6-8k Writing Competition #3: Travel.
Relationships: Hattori Heiji & Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Escapism

**Author's Note:**

> _Detective Conan_ and _Magic Kaito_ characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.
> 
> \---
> 
> Warnings: Contemplation of suicide
> 
> \---
> 
> Word Count: 7789

People pushed and shoved as they pressed their way towards the gates in their haste to either exit the station or catch their next train. Armed with only whatever he carried on his person—which was nothing more than his phone, wallet, keys, and headphones—twenty-eight-year-old Kuroba Kaito allowed himself to be swept along the current of people, guided towards the North Gate of Shin-Osaka Station. At length he stood outside at the entrance facing south, watching as the parade of yellow taxis came and went.

It was a brisk Saturday morning, and foot traffic was heavy. The fourth-year neuro-oncology surgical trainee listlessly scanned the article on his phone, scrolling through the list of attractions that Osaka had to offer. He had caught the seven o’clock Number 203 Nozomi train from Tokyo after telling the woman at the ticket counter to pick a random destination for him. Upon boarding the train, he had set an alarm on his phone to wake him up ten minutes before his destination, and proceeded to sleep the entire trip out of Tokyo. It was now 09:41, according to both the departure and arrivals display and the woman announcing the last call for the Number 9 Nozomi train with a final destination at Hakata Station, Fukuoka Prefecture. As far as attractions went, there was Osaka Castle, Amerikamura, Dontonburi, Shitennou-ji Temple, the National Museum of Art, the Osaka Science Museum, Tennouji Park, Namba, the Osaka Aquariam Kaiyukan, the Tempozan Ferris Wheel, Universal Studios Japan, and the Umeda Sky Building.

Kaito instantly nixed the aquarium for obvious reasons—no need to purposely seek out those despicably slimy, bug-eyed _finny things_. As he had simply walked out of the house that morning, he had not bothered with breakfast. Needless to say, Kaito was feeling rather hungry at this point. A separate website had recommended a restaurant close to Tennouji Park, and so the Touto Medical University trainee spun on his heel to reenter the train station. He snatched a map of Osaka’s train system and, after paying for an Osaka Municipal Subway card to swipe his way through the barrier, he made his way towards the Midosuji Line platform bound for Nakamozu Station. The plan at the moment was to first stop by Kamaage Udon Ikki, an udon restaurant that had been rather highly rated and was on the lower end of the price scale. From there, he would travel by foot to Tennouji Park for some people watching, followed by a visit to Dontonburi and Osaka Castle. The final destination of the trip before he returned to Tokyo would be the Umeda Sky Building.

When the train came, he stepped aboard and stood holding a handrail, grabbing walking directions for when he alighted at Daikokucho Station while trying his hardest not to think about the reason he was in Osaka in the first place. To distract himself as the train marched its way towards his destination, he played games on his phone and listened to music. Lately he had been on a ONE OK ROCK kick, and the song _Wherever You Are_ began to play. When the opening strums of the guitar thrummed in his ears, Kaito quickly skipped the song and yanked his ear buds out, clenching his jaw as he fought not to cry.

Forty minutes later, he was seated inside and finishing up a bowl of their curry udon. Sated after slurping down the last of the soup, Kaito paid and strolled over to Tennouji Park to people watch and bask in the warmth of the sun. He claimed a spot in the grass and laid down, frowning through the squinted lashes of his eyes as he gazed up into the brilliantly blue sky, his mind wandering over to the topic he least desired to think about.

Today was the ninth of September, and it was their anniversary. Three years ago this day, Kaito’s best friend, Nakamori Aoko, and the not-quite-but-still-sort-of-the-bane of his existence, Hakuba Saguru, exchanged their vows for each other. Kaito recalled the event with bittersweet fondness. He remembered how absolutely _stunning_ Aoko had looked in her Western-style wedding gown, remembered Hakuba’s utterly gobsmacked expression when he saw the love of his life walk down the church aisle towards him. Kaito had been fought over by both bride and groom for the honorable positions of Aoko’s honor attendant or Hakuba’s best man. The latter had been something of a surprise, because while Kaito had long harbored suspicions of the half-Briton holding him in some esteem due to his (supposed) alter ego, Kaitou KID, the magician had not expected the blond to hold any sort of respect for him as _himself_.

Kaito vividly recalled the two of them arguing rather viciously over which side of the wedding ceremony he would be on. Aoko’s argument was that since they had been friends since they were five, it only made sense that Kaito stood with her. Hakuba’s rejoinder had been that out of all of the people he knew—both in Japan and England—Kaito had been the one who treated him most like a normal person and not as a minor celebrity because of his parents, who were the Superintendent General of Japan and a Britain-based fashion house founder. The very fact that they bickered over him warmed and touched him deeply, for he had not realized how heavily he had come to rely on the pair of them for friendship. But all things being equal, Aoko and Hakuba shared a deeper bond than either of them had forged with Kaito, and it left him feeling like an awkward third wheel most of the time. His two friends had both entered the police academy and both were salaried in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department now; combined with Hakuba’s inherent wealth, the blond had taken his wife on a luxurious vacation to Malta to celebrate.

His eyes roved across the people that were out and about enjoying the crisp autumn morning, the wandering couples capturing his particular attention. He watched as most of them walked, hand-in-hand, laughing at something the other said, and his heart ached at the idea of having permanently lost that chance with Aoko. The three had all gone to Touto University after graduating from Ekoda High School. Hakuba and Aoko had both gone for their Bachelor of Laws, while he had focused heavily on biology and chemistry, eventually graduating with a Bachelor of Medicine. During the course of his undergraduate career, his two friends had begun dating, culminating in a marriage three years after they had graduated from Touto.

Kaito was now a trainee at Touto Medical University. He found his work fulfilling in the extreme, as after completing his bachelors in medicine he had been accepted into the five-year trainee program to specialize in surgical neuro-oncoloy. It was a magic different to that he had practiced when he was younger, but magic all the same. The ability to save a life filled him with immense satisfaction professionally and personally. In a way, his job was not dissimilar to that of Hakuba and Aoko’s except that they dealt with saving lives in a different manner, since the both of them worked in Division One’s Homicide Unit persecuting murderers.

The medical trainee lingered in the park for the better part of the morning, eventually leaving because he could not stomach the sight of couples acting all lovey-dovey. Kaito made his way to Dontonburi to indulge in a little shopping. He ended up purchasing a pair of inexpensive aviator sunglasses, as he had left his own back in Tokyo. Combined with his attire, which consisted of a tight-knit zippered turtleneck, stonewashed skinny jeans, and leather boots—all in black, and accented with a silver watch, Kaito figured he could feasibly pass for what the Americans called “hipster,” or perhaps even “metrosexual.”

The years he had spent—and still spent—masquerading as Kaitou KID had imbued a deep sense of fashion in Kaito, as he had to keep up with trends depending on who he had to impersonate. Since his early days as the phantom thief when he had still been in high school, Kaito’s disguise repertoire had since grown to include a rather sizable list of celebrities and royalty of both genders. As he had progressed through college and physically matured, Kaito had to work particularly hard to keep both his physique and his vocal range. His voice had deepened, his natural pitch eventually resembling that of his late father’s. Kaito was still able to pull of a voice like his mother’s, or even Aoko’s in high school, but it took an immense amount of warming up his falsetto to allow for consistent speech in that range.

He felt his stomach gurgle in protest and checked his watch. Eleven thirty-seven. “Lunchtime already?” he murmured. He made a detour to Namba for a lunch of okonomiyaki, meandering his way past the crowds of shoppers and lunch-seekers like himself. Kaito squeezed himself inside Fukutarou and nabbed himself a seat along the bar. He watched with undisguised fascination as the various ingredients were stacked in individual piles the griddle and drizzled with a pattern of layered sauces and seasonings before they were distributed to waiting customers. He ate quickly, the treat delighting his tongue with the mix of flavors and textures. Though it was a seafood-heavy restaurant, Kaito did not mind too much provided he did not see the actual carcass of the creepy, scaly abominations. He had specifically ordered his okonomiyaki without the finny eyesores. Crustaceans, echinoderms, mollusks—even cnidarians and cetaceans, he could deal with, but not members of superclass Osteichthyes. He slurped the last octopus tentacle and sighed contentedly before hauling himself to his feet to continue his exploration of the Nation’s Kitchen.

Kaito loitered in Namba for a while, making his way into the Namba City shopping mall underground. He watched as people rifled through the items shopkeepers had on display, each trying to find a bargain deal, again preferring to people watch than participate in the bargain hunting. After a light snack of the city’s famous takoyaki, the magician detoured to Osaka Castle, taking the time to admire the architecture of the building and its premises. By now, Kaito had managed to while away a good number of hours so that by the time he reached the historic castle grounds, the sun had long since begun its descent from the apex of its path. Kaito explored the interior of the castle, studying the elegant paintwork on the shoji screens that separated the rooms, his sock-clad feet padding quietly on the tatami mats underfoot. He tried to imagine what it would have been like to live in this complex building during the Warring Era, with the surrounding lands full of farmers under his care and a handful of samurai loyal to his name. What would it have been like, to have servants, to acquire a wife as a means of securing political allies?

The surgical trainee pondered the idea as he exited the structure, his feet leading him along a rather circuitous route around the surrounding gardens. He glanced up once he realized how dim the light was, only to gasp as the rays of the setting sun bathed the castle in a warm orange hue and causing the gold accents to glint. Overall, it was, with the dimming blue sky as the backdrop and the mirror-surfaced moat in the foreground, the resulting image was utterly breathtaking…

… it made him long for someone to share the sight with.

He sighed deeply. Despite the fact that Aoko had been married for three years and had dated for three before that, Kaito’s heart had stubbornly remained in the grasp of his best friend. No matter how he had tried to date, Nakamori Aoko had always been in the back of his mind, making her usual sassy commentary, though at the time they would be about his current date. He had sought casual relationships only—too close and his partner would likely discover he was Kaitou KID—and he always shied away in the end from anything beyond kissing. He just—his dates just weren’t _her_.

Kaito half-heartedly snapped a picture of the view on his phone to show her later. Despite the fact that it was dinnertime, his appetite had fled, and so he sojourned to his final destination in Osaka: the Umeda Sky Building. Kaito paid for his admission and crammed himself into the elevator with a crowd of adults and children. The lift ride was filled with chatter of the others, and the magician quietly rode out the ride to the thirty-fifth floor. He exited with the excited crowd, hopping on the escalator that allowed him the panoramic 360° view as it transported him to the thirty-ninth floor. From there, he took the stairs to the fortieth, bypassing the interior areas with the raised benches for couples and the tables along the exterior windows. He studiously ignored the corner the held a fence covered in heart-shaped locks, feeling a twinge in his chest as he walked as briskly as he could without running past it.

Instead, he made his way upstairs and outside to the Rumi Sky Walk: a circular walkway that was embedded with blue and green pinpoint lights underfoot. The sun had not yet set during his train ride to the tower, and the Osaka skyline was illuminated by the setting sun and the lights of the various office buildings, streetlights, and cars. His eyes picked out Tsuutenkaku Tower, and he recalled the dual Memories Eggs heist with a mixture of fondness and revulsion. A wind blew coolly on his face, and Kaito zipped his turtleneck up to keep warm. His indigo eyes stared into the distance as he leaned on the railing, thoughts a million miles away as couples strode behind him with murmured conversation.

 _Stop doing this to yourself,_ he rebuked, closing his eyes. _You’re long past due in getting over Aoko, aren’t you? She’s been a happily married woman for three years now. So_ suck it up and move on _, you pathetic loser!_

He clenched his jaw at his thoughts as a small gust enveloped him in a brief chill. It was as though nature herself was emphasizing the fact that he was alone. It was at times like this that he truly, honestly resented being Kaitou KID. KID was Kaito, true, but KID did not necessarily need to exist. It was because of his drive to bring his father’s murderers to justice that had caused him to pick up the cape and monocle. And being the stubborn being that he was, Kaito could not—would not—rest until the Organization had been brought down.

 _But had I not been KID… Aoko could have been mine,_ his heart whispered accusingly, and Kaito ducked his head. To this day, Kaito had never told his friend that he and the infamous Kaitou KID were one and the same. Too afraid, as Aoko’s hatred of the phantom thief was legendary and had not abated over the years. He feared what the knowledge would do to their friendship. Was too scared to take the risk. Kaito was too much of a coward. And he had lost her forever.

Suddenly feeling rather restless, Kaito hopped and flipped himself onto the railing, sitting where his forearms had previously rested. His feet dangled on the other side of the glass, though he had made sure to sit atop the supporting metal beams of the rail as opposed to the space between. He had no fear of falling to his death, as below the deck he sat on was the square tiled roof of the fortieth floor. But with his level of acrobatics, all it would take for him to take a flying leap off the edge of the building would be four bounding steps from where he landed if he pushed off the railing. Four leaps—six meters—were all that separated him from a free fall from forty stories up. Kaito wondered how his life had come to this—and all over a female, too.

 _I’m such a loser,_ he thought to himself as he measured the tiled distance with his eyes. _Yeah, it would only take four running strides._ So there he sat, swaying slightly in the breeze, wondering if it was worth the effort to make those four bounding strides towards oblivion.

Who would miss him, in all honesty? His mother was still drifting about the world, and he hardly ever saw her aside from the occasional online video chat. There was Aoko, his closest and dearest friend since childhood. There was also Hakuba and Nakamori, who were in his opinion, more interested in him as Kaitou KID than as himself. Then there were his classmates were people he surrounded himself with to perpetuate the falsehood that he had a normal social life—though none of them truly knew _him_. He could not—would not—allow it for their safety and his. He hunched further in on himself, feeling a leaden weight settle in his chest.

“Kudou! Oi, Kudou!”

Kaito barely twitched from where he sat, absently wondering if the detective had made plans to visit Osaka this weekend. Then again, his Osakan detective friend—Hattori Heiji, now an assistant inspector in the Osaka Prefectural Police, if he remembered correctly—had a penchant for calling him by his true surname regardless of his apparent age. Though now that Kudou Shinichi had been restored to his rightful age and had since married his childhood sweetheart, Mouri Ran, the idea sort of a moot point.

 _This is_ just _what I need right now. Lady Luck has honestly forsaken me,_ he mentally bemoaned, for Kudou Shinichi—or Edogawa Conan, depending on the form once upon a time—had the uncanny ability to detect him whether in disguise or not. But frankly, with the mood he was in, he was rather apathetic to being found out at the moment. He sighed to himself and leaned his chin on his hand, which was propped on a crossed knee, continuing to stare into the horizon and hoping for once that the detectives—both of them—would overlook him for once.

“Na, Kudou, why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in Osaka?” The question, asked with a rather peeved tone, was complemented by an insistent prod in his side.

Kaito blinked and frowned, belatedly realizing the query had been directed at _him_. He twisted his head towards his assailant, who up to this point had continued with accosting him in the left kidney with a finger. He batted the offending hand away irritably, his moodiness swiftly morphing into acute annoyance. “Do you always poke strangers in the side?” he snapped, turning his head sharply to glare at his accoster.

Hattori Heiji stared at him with an unimpressed glower. “Che, You could’ve told me, Kudou,” he grumbled in return, clearly having not comprehended the fact that the person before him was in actuality not his friend.

“Go away,” Kaito sighed morosely, his testiness melting away as quickly as it had come and leaving him feeling oddly drained and achingly hollow. “You’ve got the wrong person.” _And aren’t I_ always _the wrong person in name if not face…?_

Hattori propped himself on the railing, leaning outward so he could get a good look at his friend’s lookalike’s face. Kaito diligently ignored him, steadfastly keeping his eyes away from the silver band on his left ring finger as a pang strangled his heart. “I think I know why I mistook him for you,” Hattori announced after several long seconds of studying. “You’ve got the same lousy attitude as him.”

On most days, Kaito was the one that played pranks and cheered people up. And even when he was not in such a good mood, he slapped Poker Face on and ensured the show went on. It was only when he was alone—truly alone—that he allowed his emotional walls to drop. He was not, however, expecting to be called out on it, much less by a total stranger. He shot the Osakan a dark, if rather petulant, scowl. “Oh, do I?” he snipped, “Well, pardon me for having crap-tacular day.” Truthfully, aside from stringently ignoring his love problem with Aoko, his day had actually passed rather pleasantly. But he was not about to tell the loud, brash detective that little gem.

Hattori smirked triumphantly. “It got you to talk, didn’t it?”

Kaito’s teeth clicked together and he barely managed to refrain from slapping his hand to his forehead and dragging it down his face. He really _had_ walked right into that one. “What do you want?” he asked resignedly, knowing that the detective would likely not leave him alone until his curiosity was assuaged. It was the same way with Hakuba, and through his dealings as Kaitou KID, with Kudou Shinichi as well. Seriously, what was the _deal_ with detectives?

Hattori turned so that he leaned against the metal rail with the bar bracing the small of his back, head turned towards him with eyes that glittered from the city lights and the walkway. “Am I not allowed to talk to the doppelgänger of my best friend?” he asked.

“What is there to ask of a stranger?” Kaito answered with a question of his own. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather enjoy the view from here with your fiancée, Hattori Heiji?”

The detective raised a brow. “You’re awfully informed about me,” he remarked, and Kaito inwardly swore at that particular slip of the tongue since it had only piqued the Osakan’s curiosity further. “And Kazuha’s busy tonight, so I’m somewhat at a loose end tonight.”

“Lucky me,” Kaito grumbled quietly enough under his breath that his persistent companion did not catch it. Outwardly, he snorted loud enough for the Osakan to hear over the light wind. “Who in Japan does not know of the two stars of the Tokyo and Osaka Police forces? Your faces are regularly plastered on the papers for the proclaimed impossible cases that you solve,” he said by way of explaining how he had recognized his unwanted companion.

“Well, that makes it easier on me then,” Hattori announced with satisfaction, “since I can tell something’s eating you and you haven’t eaten yet.” The man’s green eyes stared pointedly at Kaito’s stomach, which, to the magician’s surprise and embarrassment, had been gurgling audibly.

Kaito flushed. He had been so focused on his thoughts regarding Aoko that he had not realized his body had been protesting the lack of sustenance.

The Osakan hummed. “Tell you what,” he said, “How ‘bout we go grab a bite? I came up here to get a little breather after a rather difficult case, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

His chest lightened with the idea of having someone to talk to before he abruptly recalled himself. He was a loner by situation, by circumstance, by choice. He could not afford to—

“And since I’m inviting, it’ll be my treat,” Hattori added enticingly.

The magician stared, stunned. How long had it been since someone had asked for his company? His fellow trainees at Touto Medical University were his acquaintances—people he both desired and feared getting to close to, since he genuinely enjoyed their company but did not want them fraternizing with Hakuba through Aoko and thus getting ideas that Kaito was KID. The blasted blond had never stopped with the suspicions since their introduction in high school, and as the years had gone by, Hakuba had done nothing but compiled more and more speculative evidence and theories regarding the phantom thief’s identity—which Aoko willfully ignored. And even when he _did_ mingle with his classmates, there was always a barrier that he kept in his mind. He entertained and he laughed, he chatted and he flirted, but never did he open up. And staring at Hattori, who was watching him with a bewilderingly hopeful expression, he knew he could not open up to the Osakan either. Would not to detectives.

 _Never_ to detectives.

Kaito _really_ did not want to spend his evening with Hattori Heiji, preferring instead to wallow in the little pity party he was throwing for himself. And yet… “Sure,” he agreed nonchalantly with a shrug, swinging his feet over the railing in a graceful twist and landing on his feet. He was still a poor trainee, free food was free food, and he was nothing if not the absolute best actor the world had ever seen. Kudou Yukiko and Sharon Vineyard might have been taught by his father and acknowledged by the world as impeccable actresses, but performance—the need and ability to put on an amazing show—had been bred into his very _blood_. “As long as you’re paying.” That and it just would not do, after all, to appear panicked before a detective for no apparent reason. 

“Great!” Hattori cheered, thumping Kaito in a celebratory victory clap on the back. The impact was a little harder than the magician expected and he stumbled. The Osakan led the way off the sky walk and out of the building, Kaito only trailing after because of the promise of a free meal. “You okay with riding on a bike?” the detective asked, and Kaito nodded. He was led to an old but serviceable green motorcycle. Hattori tossed him a spare helmet, and the two of them climbed on the bike. The Osakan revved the engine and pulled them into the heavy Saturday night traffic, making their way back to Namba.

Hattori parked his bike along the curb, marching into Okaru. “Yuuki-han!” he greeted cheerily, waving at the restaurant owner as he took a seat at a one of several booths equipped with a teppanyaki grill built into the center of the table. By now it was late enough that the dinner crowds had come and gone for the night, and so the pair was able to grab seats without any wait. Kaito observed quietly as Hattori and the amber-eyed Yuuki chatted like old friends, discussing kendo initially and eventually getting around to ordering as the woman set down glasses of water for them. The Osakan ordered a seafood combination negiyaki. Kaito was in the process of ordering himself a beef modan-yaki when Hattori interrupted.

“You can’t order modan-yaki while you’re here! Yuuki-han’s negiyaki is the absolute _best_! And you can’t get fresher seafood than in Osaka, so why don’t you order the seafood combination?” Hattori suggested—although it was almost a demand going by his tone.

“Hattori-han,” Yuuki laughingly chided, coming to Kaito’s defense, “Your friend should be free to order whatever he likes, not what _you_ think he would like.” Kaito had, during the detective’s interruption, paled at the mention of seafood and ever so slightly inclined himself away from the man and his intense fervor for Osaka-style okonomiyaki.

“Could I still get the beef modan-yaki?” Kaito asked tentatively.

“Get him the combination negiyaki, same as mine,” Hattori cut in again demandingly, all traces of joviality from earlier gone. “He can’t visit Osaka and _not_ have a proper okonomiyaki, right—?” He froze in realization, and a frown crinkled his brow. Teal eyes darting to Kaito’s, he asked, “What _is_ your name?”

Yuuki laughed, the airy, warm sound issuing from her slim frame. “Oh, Hattori-han! How _could_ you?” Kaito chuckled in spite of himself at Hattori’s suddenly awkward predicament, his mood lifting ever so slightly.

The detective turned his head sharply away, a light blush staining his cheeks from embarrassment. “Che. I invited him because I wanted the company, that’s all.”

Kaito decided to take pity on his dining companion and murmured, “Kuroba Kaito.”

“I’ll get your moden-yaki for you, Kuroba-han,” Yuuki said with a smile and a wink, despite Hattori’s determined protests. The woman turned, her long auburn hair braided into a half-circlet that otherwise swished gently, cascading down her back as she returned behind the bar to collect the various ingredients. She returned in rapid order, heating up the grill surface and beginning the process of cooking their orders before them. Luckily for the magician the seafood had already been prepared—particularly the devilish things with gills, as they had already been filleted and looked nothing remotely like the scaly trigger to his phobia. Kaito watched with rapt fascination, noting the differences in preparation from what he was used to in Tokyo. After Yuuki had grilled both sides and shut the grill off, she took out a bottle of mayonnaise and, with a flourish Kaito did not expect, drew Tsuutenkaku Tower on Hattori’s okonomiyaki and finished it off with the kanji for “Osaka”. On Kaito’s moden-yaki, she decided to be a little more artsy and drew the face of Hello Kitty on his. She finished his artwork by writing “Hello Kitty” in loopy English cursive. “Enjoy!” she said brightly before leaving her two customers to their meal.

“I gratefully receive,” the pair of them chimed before digging in. The combination of cooked batter, vegetables, and beef came together in an amazing explosion on Kaito’s tongue, and he barely refrained from moaning aloud. As it was, he savored his current mouthful with eyes blissfully closed.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Hattori asked, a cocky, knowing grin on his face.

Kaito nodded. “It’s excellent,” he praised, taking another bite. The two were silent save for the sounds of eating and drinking, and only when they had polished off their respective meals and Hattori had paid as promised, did conversation begin again, albeit much more stilted than before. The awkwardness was, of course, Kaito’s personal opinion regarding the current atmosphere.

“So what were you doing all the way up on the Rumi Sky Walk without someone else with you? It’s normally considered a ‘romantic’ date spot,” Hattori remarked easily, leaning back in his seat and settling himself comfortably.

Kaito was not sure if Hattori was completely oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation or purposely ignoring it. But all the same, he answered after a lengthy bout of deliberation, as the chances of this getting back to Aoko and Hakuba were extremely slim given the two detectives’ history of antagonism and their respective locales for living. And plus, when would he ever realistically run into Hattori Heiji again? “Today is my best friend and my—more enemy than friend—‘s wedding anniversary,” he sighed, feeling his mood sink as he spoke.

Hattori eyed him with eyes that gleamed with sudden realization and sympathy. “And you were in love her,” he concluded quietly.

A bitter, rueful chuckle escaped the medical trainee. “We became friends when we were both five years old—grew up in each other’s pockets. I’ve loved her since we were in high school—still do, as a matter of fact.”

The detective whistled. “She must really be something,” he remarked.

Kaito sighed. “She’s an amazing woman—strong-willed, independent and smart, caring and compassionate, and yet full of righteous fury if properly provoked…” He huffed melancholically. “I don’t know enough words to describe her. She was— _is_ —” and here Kaito swallowed thickly, the build up of his emotions beginning to truly test his Poker Face, “—my best friend… _just_ my best friend.”

The detective was silent for a moment allowing the information to percolate through his brain. “So why didn’t you go after her?” Hattori eventually asked, his tone clearly curious.

“Because I’ve kept secrets from her,” Kaito finally replied after debating whether or not he should have even revealed that much. But in the end, Hattori was offering a willing ear to listen, and Kaito sorely needed an outlet. “Secrets that—would make her hate me if she knew.”

The Osakan stared contemplatively at him. “How are you so sure she’d hate you?”

A self-depreciative grin curled his lips. “Because she’s said so many, many times already.” Kaito rubbed his upper arm in an unconscious, nervous gesture, his shoulders curling inwards protectively as he continued to speak. “She liked me back for the longest time, but because I didn’t want to lie to her, yet I couldn’t afford to tell her, she eventually moved on.” His voice cracked at the end with emotion, and Kaito ducked his head to hid the fact that he was valiantly attempting to keep the tears from falling.

“And she ended up marrying your rival, huh?” Hattori sighed and sipped his water. “Man, Kuroba-han, I’m sorry.”

Kaito sighed. “Me too, Hattori-san. Me too.”

The two went silent for a while, each turning over and digesting what the other had spoken. Eventually Hattori broke the contemplative silence, volunteering to tell something of his own. “I’ve a friend, Kuroba-han. A friend who for _years_ lied to his girl.” The surgical trainee knew instantly that Hattori spoke of none other than Kudou Shinichi, though outwardly he gave no indication of that knowledge. “He kept a secret from her—a secret that he knew had the potential to end their friendship forever, and they—like you—had been friends since childhood.” Hattori scratched his cheek, taking the time to think through his phrasing. It was not, after all, his story to tell.

“She didn’t understand why he could not tell her anything, and she was always upset with him whenever he managed to show his face. But had reasons to lie—reasons that would keep him _and_ her safe and alive.” The detective tilted his head back, leaning on the backrest of the booth as he stared at the ceiling. “When he finally told her his secret, I won’t even begin to describe how angry Nee-chan was. It took her nearly a year to get over it to where she could even begin to consider forgiving him, and my friend spent the immediate years after he spilled the beans groveling to her to make it up.”

Kaito could very easily imagine an upset Mouri Ran, having been the target of her fury several times over the years as Kaitou KID. She had never quite gotten over the fact that he had groped her on the airship all those years ago. Still, he remained quiet and relaxed, listening to Hattori’s account of how the newest Kudou couple came to be.

“Three years after he told her, Nee-chan finally forgave him for lying to her. She understood his reasons, though she made it abundantly exactly what she thought of them. Only then did they start dating, and after four years they got married.” Hattori smiled in recollection while Kaito felt his heart sink somewhere in the region of his intestines. Unlike Kudou Shinichi and Kudou Ran, _his_ best friend was no longer a Nakamori but a _Hakuba_. Despite the fact that Kaitou KID inspired people to dream and believe in magic, the reality was that there was no such thing as a fairytale happily-ever-after ending for Kuroba Kaito.

“That’s… great,” Kaito mumbled, hiding his expression behind his fringe. His Poker Face, having hidden his true emotions for so long, was threadbare and fraying rapidly. He needed to leave before it disintegrated entirely, leaving him naked and exposed. He checked the time on his phone—eight minutes until nine, and the last Shinkansen train back to Tokyo left at nine twenty-three—as he scooted to the end of the bench and stood, bowing stiffly as he said, “I have a train to catch. Thank you for the meal.” Then, without waiting for a response, Kaito fled the restaurant, ducking and weaving his way through the nighttime crowds traversing to and from Dontonburi. Tears blurred his vision as he thought about Aoko and how he would never be her husband nor she his wife; they would not grow old together in the way that his and her parents never had the chance to. So many lost opportunities, and all because he had chosen justice—and perhaps vengeance—over love. He deeply regretted it, for sure, but he also knew that if he was being honest with himself he would willingly put himself through this pain over again if it meant his father’s killers were brought to justice.

 _Have I become so driven to right my past that I can no longer see my future? What have I done in a past life to deserve_ this _gods-forsaken one?_ he mentally screamed as he blindly ran. He turned a corner and encountered a dead end, collapsing to the ground, as he finally allowed the stifled sobs to escape, the last of his Poker Face turning into motes of dust and blowing away. His fists pounded the concrete as he cried harshly and painfully, and he wondered why it seemed as though the choices that he had had to make had so much more riding on his decisions than other people. Most people did not have to decide whether or not to become an internationally wanted criminal if they wanted their father’s murderers to be properly sentenced under the law. Most people did not have to decide whether or not it was worth pursuing justice if it meant risking their own life each and every time they reached for it. Most people did not have to decide whether or not it was worth keeping a second identity secret from the love of their life that hated their alter ego with every fiber of her being. Most people, most people, most people…

 _I hate most people,_ Kaito’s heart snarled—and in that moment, as Kuroba Kaito keened in pain that could not be seen by an outside observer, he fiercely and utterly _despised_ Kaitou KID and all that he stood for.

How long he knelt on the dirty asphalt sobbing, Kaito had no idea, but at some point he became aware of the fact that he had warm arms wrapped around him and that he leaned on someone’s chest. A voice murmured low, soothing croons of comfort that further pulled Kaito out of the pit of his despair. They rocked gently together, and the magician slowly began the process of pulling himself together. “Thanks,” he whispered at length, his nose stuffy, head aching, and eyes nearly swollen shut.

“You feeling better now?” Hattori’s voice asked with concern, his tone tempered from his normal loud assertiveness.

The medical trainee audibly sighed. “Yeah,” he answered as he sagged more heavily against the detective. Now that he was done crying, he was worn out in every sense of the word: mentally, physically, and emotionally. He stifled a groan of complaint. He still had to make it back to make it back to Shin-Osaka Station in the hopes of catching the last Shinkansen train back to Tokyo. “What time is it?”

“Nine eighteen,” Hattori replied after consulting his mobile.

Kaito swore viciously under his breath. There was no way he could make it to Shin-Osaka Station. He did not even know where he was _now_ , having run off without any thought to where he was going.

“I take it you’ve missed your train?” The detective’s voice was surprisingly gentle.

“Yeah,” Kaito croaked wearily. He sluggishly began calculating how much it would cost to book a hotel at the last minute as Hattori helped haul him to his feet. “Gods, what a day…” he muttered quietly.

Hattori kept an arm around his waist as Kaito regained his sense of balance. “You can crash at my place,” the Osakan offered without preamble, startling Kaito.

The magician stared. “What?” he replied dumbly, unable to comprehend Hattori’s generosity.

“You can crash at my place,” Hattori reiterated as he released Kaito after satisfying himself with his companion’s continued vertical stability. “I don’t think Kazuha’ll mind, and you look dead on your feet, Kuroba-han.”

Kaito sighed deeply. “I—thank you, Hattori-san,” he said after briefly considering refusing out of politeness, though his tiredness won out in the end.

“Come on,” Hattori gestured, heading out of the alley, “We’ve a ways to walk back to my bike since you ran all the way to Nipponbashihigashi.” Kaito _did_ groan this time, though to be fair he had no honest clue how far Nipponbashihigashi was from Namba. The detective’s eyes glittered in the dim streetlights. “You’re quite the runner, Kuroba-han.”

“Was on the track team in high school,” he sighed. The lie rolled easily—too easily—off his tongue. Kaito only thanked whatever gods were listening that he had not tried to hop fences and scale buildings while he had run. _That_ would have been a little more difficult to explain away.

Hattori hummed, and the walk back to his bike was completed in companionable silence. They grabbed their respective helmets, and Hattori allowed the engine to warm up before taking to the roads. After forty minutes of navigating the streets of Osaka, Hattori pulled into an older but well cared for apartment complex in Hirakata. “You know,” Hattori remarked conversationally as they dismounted and he locked up bike and helmets, “I never thought I’d see the day when Kaitou KID was hung up over a woman.”

“I’m not Kaitou KID,” Kaito reflexively replied, and immediately after he mentally slapped himself. Hakuba had, over the years, bred the reaction into him, and now Hattori was likely going to wonder when and where he had developed it. Kaito inwardly cursed both the blond and his own exhaustion. Had he been a little more awake—had Poker Face been even the barest bit intact—he could have caught that slip of the tongue with ease.

“Kuroba-han, I may be many things, but I’m not an idiot—well, most of the time,” he amended with a lazy grin. He started up the stairs to the apartment he shared with his wife, pausing when Kaito’s footsteps failed to follow. The surgical trainee, for his part, was tiredly but nervously glancing around, trying and failing to command his brain to come up with some means of keeping himself out of the detective’s abode. Kaito jumped when Hattori cleared his throat, abruptly realizing that the Osakan stood right before him. “Kuroba-han,” he said slowly and clearly, his mien serious, “Come inside and sleep. I’m not going to arrest you, I’m not going to spring a trap on you, and I’m not going to tie you up. I met you as Kuroba Kaito, a surgical trainee with an unrequited love and some deep, dark secret. I _did not_ meet Kaitou KID, phantom thief annoyance-aire this night.” And so saying, he turned and once again began to climb the stairs.

This time, Kaito followed. “So what gave me away?” he asked, knowing that his cover was blown but too curious to keep his mouth shut.

“A couple of things,” Hattori said thoughtfully as he slotted his key into the lock and opened the door. The pair shucked their shoes off in the genkan, and Hattori offered Kaito a pair of guest house slippers. Kazuha was still out, and Hattori guessed she would not be home for another couple of hours. “Firstly, you look almost exactly like Kudou—and he’s said that KID can pass as himself without the use of any cosmetics or prosthetics. Statistically, the chances of someone running into their doppelgänger is infinitesimally small, yet I have now met two people that look nearly identical to each other. Then there was the secret that your girl could never find out about. I can’t think of many things that would be dire enough to destroy a friendship over, and since you said she possessed ‘righteous fury’ that I took to mean she did her best to uphold the law and be a model citizen—and a criminal of sorts certainly could not do that. My gut feel tells me you aren’t a killer of any sort, otherwise I would have already found something to stake you through the heart with, so that leaves me one criminal: Kaitou KID.” Throughout his deduction Hattori had unrolled a spare futon and laid it out in the living room, shuffling here and there to acquire a pillow and blankets. He had even procured a spare set of clothing for Kaito after he had bathed. He also handed over a glass of water and painkillers.

Kaito blinked, rather astounded that Hattori had figured him out so easily as he accepted the water and medicine. But then again, he had not really been actively hiding himself the way he did around Kudou and Hakuba what with his moping and such, and he really _was_ tired. “I—wow, I’m impressed, Hattori-san,” he admitted after he had gulped down the tablets and set down the glass on the coffee table.

Hattori tossed him a smirk. “You take the bathroom first, Kuroba-han,” he said, gesturing to one of the doors that lined the main hallway.

“All right,” Kaito said and grabbed the pile of clothing before shuffling past the Osakan and closing the bathroom door behind him. Kaito quickly bathed, skipping the chance to soak in the furo lest he risk the chance of drowning in the tub if he fell asleep in it. He exited with a trailing cloud of steam, shutting of the lights and settling himself in his makeshift bedding as the detective took his turn in the bathroom, though not before informing him that he had called Kazuha to warn her about returning home in a noisy manner. The Osakan took a little longer to bathe, despite the exhaustion that dragged at Kaito’s very bones, the magician could not yet fall asleep. So instead he tossed and turned, trying and failing to rest himself.

At length Hattori exited the bathroom, padding on quiet feet towards his own bedroom. “Hattori-san,” Kaito called as he sat up in the darkened room illuminated by the hallway lights. The Osakan paused and turned, giving Kaito his full attention. “Thank you. Really… just, thanks.”

Hattori smiled. “You’re welcome, Kuroba-han. Sleep well.”

Kaito responded in kind and snuggled under the blankets, realizing the for once he felt oddly at peace with himself. He had traveled away from Tokyo with the intention of nursing an unrelenting heartache and sightseeing as a way to distract himself from the empty shell that his life had become. And somehow, he had ended up in Osaka, seen some of the specular sights that the Nation’s Kitchen had to offer, eaten the best okonomiyaki in his life, and had befriended a rather insistent but refreshingly different breed of detective. He had broken down and cried, true, but that had not seemed to deter one determined Hattori Heiji.

 _I’ll need to thank him again in the morning. It seems I owe Hattori a_ lot _more than he knows,_ Kaito thought drowsily as he finally slid into a restful slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Y’all must think I absolutely _hate_ Kaito to do this to him, don’t you? I actually don’t hate him—in fact, I _love_ Kaito to death (sometimes literally). This took a lot out of me, as I feel like I haven’t written angst this deep in a while, I feel. I wanted a slow unraveling of Kaito’s emotional state with the impulse to travel as a sort of escapism for him that ultimately failed. That and I really wanted to write a story that focused exclusively on the interaction between Kaito and Heiji. And Heiji being Heiji _would_ deduce that Kaito was KID, what with Kaito not really putting any effort into hiding the fact. I sort of sneaked it in, but if you didn’t catch the reference to making food and swordsmanship, the okonomiyaki restaurant owner was Yuuki Asuna from _Sword Art Online_. Granted, I _did_ turn her into an Osaka native, but… Researching all that stuff for Japanese schools was a pain in the rear, but it got done in the end, and I think I can partially navigate my way around Osaka based on how long I’ve stared at maps to get Kaito from A to B to C, etc. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> \---
> 
> Completed: 26.05.2016


End file.
